


destiny is a wicked game

by SophieGraceJ



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Elf/Human Relationship(s), F/M, Smut, Unrequited Love, am i the only who does?, but both are beautiful characters, i ship them so much, they both suffer from unrequited love and have done questionable things for it, triss is my fav character from the witcher universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 18:55:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18394340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophieGraceJ/pseuds/SophieGraceJ
Summary: “Do you ever think about what could have been?”Triss didn’t know why she asked him that, but she knew she had to. It had been on her mind since he had mentioned his love for Lara Dorren.He seemed confused for a moment but realisation flickered by his eyes. “Sometimes, yes. I think about all the death that could have been prevented, I think about the elder blood never being taken from the Aen Elle.”“Is that why you dislike humans so much?”





	destiny is a wicked game

**Author's Note:**

> I love both these characters, especially Triss who is my favourite Witcher character of all time (from both books and games). 
> 
> I also ship these two very much, so if anyone else does please tell me! I'd love to ramble about it with you! :D

“You love him, do you not?” 

Triss hadn’t expected anyone but her to be in Kaer Morhen after all that had happened. With the Wild Hunt defeated, Ciri safe and a witcheress – what she had always wanted to be – and Geralt and Yennefer at peace for the first time in many years, there wasn’t much left in the ruins of Kaedwen. Not even Lambert nor Eskel lingered now that Vesemir was gone… 

“Yeah, I did. Maybe I still do, but I’ve learnt my lesson.” Triss hated to be petty, hated that many probably thought of her as a little girl who wanted something she couldn’t have. Was it Geralt that she loved, or just the idea of him? 

As much as it pained her, she knew the truth, so did Yennefer. Perhaps why Yen had forgiven her in the end. Still, Triss dreamt at night of never doing what she did in the past, of taking it all back. 

All she had wanted was love. 

“I once had love for someone, someone who did not feel the same way,” Avallac’h said as if trying to comfort her. It might not have soothed the heartache but it caught her intrigue. She turned away from the mountains and valley, instead desiring to face the sage. 

They hadn’t spoken much, after all they did have a war to fight. But his features were not so forgettable, he had vibrant eyes, not so different was Ciri’s, but blue and pale. She’d never seen an Aen Elle before meeting him, yet she had always suspected they would be beautiful and not so different to Aen Seidhe, and she was right. 

“Lara Dorren…” Triss hadn’t meant for the name to slip, but in her defence, it had come out as a whisper, a compassionate one. It wasn’t of accusation, but of understanding. 

Ciri’s ancestor had been betrothed to Avallac’h once upon a time, until she fell for someone else. A human mage… A tragic tale, one that meant death for both the elf and human lovers. The elder blood was a curse as much as it was a gift, but Ciri had come out triumphant, what her ancestors hadn’t been able to do before her. 

Ciri defeated the white frost, saved their own world and so many others.

Nothing and no one could have asked for anything more. 

Eye contact wavered and Triss had to look down at the stone ground of the balcony. “I suspect it is common fact that I was to marry the first carrier of the Elder blood?” 

“Just as common a fact as my childish love for the witcher, but don’t worry. People don’t actually care as much as you’d think. We all have secrets and regrets.” Now it was Triss’ turn to try and comfort the sage. His sharp lips curved into a wry smile, “You know, I don’t think we’ve ever properly met. I’m Triss-”

“-Merigold. No introductions are needed. Ciri has told me much of the chestnut-haired sorceress.” 

It was Triss’ turn to smile, however she also held a blush in her face. The cool breeze wasn’t enough to stop the warmth flooding in her cheeks. If Avallac’h noticed, he didn’t say anything. “All good I hope,” Triss joked, returning back to the stone railing, leaning over it to get away from his pale gaze. 

He had a paralysing stare. Ciri had mentioned that, but Triss just thought Ciri was being silly. 

She wasn’t. 

His stare froze the blood in her veins. Penetrated her, divulged all her pesky secrets more than his own. “You helped her when she was a young child here in these ruins the witchers call Kaer Morhen. She speaks very highly of you. Of how talented a sorceress you are, how courageous and kind you are.” 

Again, there was a painful blush on her skin, luckily, he could not see now that she wasn’t facing him. But she could still feel his gaze wandering all over her, like he was trying to pry open her mind and steal every thought she had. 

Funny. He probably had enough power in his pinky finger to do that without all the staring. 

“Not to sound nosey but… why’re you here? Ciri is nowhere near Kaedwen, she’s far south, in Toussaint with Geralt and Yennefer.” 

There was strange a smile on his shapely lips when she finally had the courage to face him again, and it churned her stomach in a pleasant way. He made her nervous. An unfamiliar kind of nervous. One she had never felt. Not even with Geralt.

“Cirilla specifically asked for me keep my distance for a little while. Said she wished to feel independent, that I was a looming shadow holding her back.” 

Triss could feel her dimples showing, her grin wide and almost embarrassing, it caught his gaze, made her blush again, but she was too amused by Ciri’s antics to care, “Don’t take it personal. Ciri is an independent spirit, but that’s what makes her charming.” 

His mouth quirked as he considered what Triss said, “An honest statement, but I don’t believe it to be the most charming aspect of her personality.”

Triss laughed and spoke through it, “I’ve a suspicion you secretly do find it to be charming, just as much as her rebellious nature. She’s a free soul, not even the elder blood can stop her.” 

He laughed with her, but not as whole-heartedly. “Am I truly so obvious?” 

“Not at all. It was just a wild guess on my behalf,” Triss reassured and it earned one of the friendlier smiles he had given her in the time they’d spoken out in the cold evening, “Still, I’m curious as to why you chose Kaer Morhen. Couldn’t you return home to your world?” 

His brows raised, and Triss quickly realised the mistake she had made, “Not to say I don’t want you here. I just, I don’t understand. I’d thought once the white frost and wild hunt were defeated, you’d wish to return home.” 

“A sensible prediction, however an incorrect one. If you wish, I will tell you why over dinner, if you would join me?” 

 

~

 

“It’s still so fresh in my mind the time I spent here when Ciri was a little girl. The witchers - very much out of their depth – had no idea how to treat a young lady. One day I’d given her one of my dresses, a pretty blue colour, and she walked up to the witchers and exclaimed ‘I cannot train today for I am indisposed!’. You should have seen their expressions, absolutely priceless.” 

Triss cherished the glass of Erveluce Avallac’h had poured her, swirling it around in the tankard as she spoke. The food was delicious too. Roasted potatoes, butternut pumpkin, beef and chicken, grapes, cheese and bread. The fireplace kept them warm as did the candle light. It almost felt romantic, but thinking of it that way made Triss nervous, unsettled her in a pleasant way. 

Avallac’h was charming, handsome and extremely mysterious. Maybe not her usual type if she even had one, but she couldn’t think of love and relationships without heartache and guilt. She was not proud of the things she had done for both of those things…

“Is that where Cirilla learnt such a confident and stubborn nature?” 

It was light-hearted and genuinely quite funny, and probably just as true. “I wouldn’t be surprised. But I’m glad. She’s become a beautiful young woman.” Avallac’h didn’t seem to react, yet Triss did catch a slight depression in his mood, the gleam in his pale eyes faded for a moment. 

All went silent bar food being eaten and cutlery being used. 

“So, what brought you to the witcher school?” Triss hoped it’d be a good distraction, after all, Avallac’h had invited her to eat with him not for good company, but to explain why he was here in the first place.

“Dreams,” Avallac’h said simply, not looking up from his dish. He didn’t have much on his plate, a detail Triss only just noticed. No meat, only plant-based food. “For the last week I’ve had hallucinations and dreams of these ruins. Something was drawing me to this place. Not any form of magic I’m familiar with.”

A strange feeling erupted in Triss’ chest. Dreams… Unfamiliar magic. Any of the magic – if there even was remnants of it – buried in the ruins would have been a mere inconvenience to someone as powerful as Avallac’h, not something that’d intrigue him. 

“You don’t think it’s oneiromancy?” 

“No, I do not have that ability and I am not connected to this place.” 

“You’re connected to Ciri.”

“But what I dreamt of had nothing to do with Cirilla, nor past or future events. They were passive, unnatural in the sense that I felt they had no purpose.”

“Then why did you come here?” 

He didn’t answer, and instead looked up from his plate for the first time since they sat down to eat. “I do not know. I, I felt the need to be here for a reason I cannot perceive.” 

Triss frowned. 

She knew how that felt, to want to be somewhere for no reason at all. That’s why she had left Kovir a few days ago. She’d felt the need to visit the old witcher school. She’d thought that maybe she wanted to experience nostalgia, or she wanted to mourn over all that was lost and gone, and celebrate all that was new and reborn. 

“Do you ever think about what could have been?” 

Triss didn’t know why she asked him that, but she knew she had to. It had been on her mind since he had mentioned his love for Lara Dorren. 

He seemed confused for a moment but realisation flickered by his eyes. “Sometimes, yes. I think about all the death that could have been prevented, I think about the elder blood never being taken from the Aen Elle.” 

“Is that why you dislike humans so much?” 

It was well-known that Avallac’h wasn’t exactly the friendliest to any of them, nor was he incredibly trusting. He cared for Ciri, Triss knew that much, but she could also see the hurt in the younger girl. Yennefer had also told her of his hideout off the shores of Skellige. 

Obsessed. He was - is obsessed with the elder blood. 

“Partly. I also find humans to be a violent species, small-minded and quick to anger.” 

“I can’t argue with you, but not all humans are like that. It’s only the brainwashed ones,” Triss explained, although she did understand the sentiment. She’d experienced enough of how discriminative and horrid her species could be to anyone different. But she never discounted herself as human, yes, she was a sorceress but she had human qualities and felt offended by his generalisation. 

“Perhaps not, but I’m yet to meet any who are kind to outsiders.” 

“What about Ciri? Geralt and Yennefer, me?” 

“All examples express unnatural qualities. You and the sorceress of Vengerberg are magic users, Gwynbleidd is a mutant, and Ciri is a carrier of an anicent aen elle power.” 

“But we still have human qualities. Compassion, grief and love.” 

“I too feel those things, and yet I am not human.” 

Avallac’h gave her a sly grin, he knew he was irritating her and he enjoyed it. Something she hadn’t expected from the usually stern aen elle sage. And to think he just admitted to feeling emotions. She wondered how he expressed each of those sentiments. She imagined he’d be subtle about it, not one to share his feelings with anyone. Did he even share his heart and mind with Ciri? Someone he had sacrificed much for? Someone he almost sacrificed his life for on multiple occasions, or was that a common action made by the Aen Elle people? 

“Why’re you being so nice to me?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’ve done no harm to me or my goals.”

“No, I guess not, but you don’t seem like the type to socialise like this, especially with human sorceresses,” Triss had to laugh. Ciri was right to say he was confusing being. A walking contradiction. Mysterious but ultimately a charming presence… and strangely pretty. 

Perhaps that Erveluce was getting to her head quicker than expected. She’d only had one tankard, what was happening to her? 

Her face had gone red, that she was certain of by the way his sharply curved lips capered into a smile and pale blue eyes practically devoured her entire face. 

“It’s been a pleasurable evening Avallac’h but I fear I’m feeling indisposed. Thanks for the dinner, have a good rest of the night.” 

Triss never considered herself to be an awkward person, maybe with people she was head over heels in love with but even then, all who knew her called her a charmer, a warm presence that could melt even the coldest of hearts. Yet she couldn’t wait to escape his gaze, it burnt her skin, left her skittery and a hot-mess. If Yennefer were to see her, the raven-haired sorceress’s teasing would be relentless. 

One thing she knew for certain, was that needed a bath to calm her muscles and nerves.

 

~

 

The bathwater was slowly turning cold. Triss lost all track of time and found herself sinking in the lukewarm water, not even taking the time to use scented oils or creams. Just plain bathwater.

She went under and came back up with wet chestnut hair tangled around her neck and down her scarred breasts. The bath wasn’t exactly luxurious but it wasn’t unpleasant either. 

She was soon forgetting about how rushed she was in escaping the conversation with Avallac’h, and maybe even close to forgetting his chuckle and strangely kind smile. 

Did he have an ulterior motive? He was being overbearingly kind to her. She was thankful for it however. There wasn’t much longing or heartbreak for Geralt, Avallac’h was quickly drowning her mind with questions and curiosity. He really was a strange spirit. 

Soon enough she had a towel wrapped around her body, and she was tracing wet footprints into the stone floor of the witcher school. It was almost second nature to her as she wandered her way through the keep. 

So, second nature to her that she hadn’t checked if the room was in fact her room, nor what was inside the room when she shut the door and made herself at home. 

Not before long, Triss was frozen in place with her mouth agape. “Avallac’h … I, I had no idea. I thought this was my room.” Triss clutched the towel closer to her body but Avallac’h didn’t seem bothered at all, in fact, he almost seemed to be happy at her intrusion. 

“No need for apologies. Nudity,” he began, eyes swiftly and respectfully looking her over, “does not bother me. Besides, I was thinking of showing you something. I believed a sorceress like you would find this curious.” Avallac’h gestured to a dust-ridden desk, buried beneath books and scrolls and a large satchel. 

His belongings no doubt. 

Triss ambled closer to where he inclined into the wood, blonde-grey hair falling over his face. 

At first, she thought that it’d be one of the papers scribbled with aen elle writing that he wanted to show, but her heart dropped at the sight of a familiar flower. 

The rose Geralt gave her… 

He must have taken it with him. 

The flower itself had died, its petals no longer soft and colourful, but instead crisp and fragile, a dark shadow of what it once was. Their love had never been true. 

“Although it has wilted, it holds much magic. I discovered it in one of the rooms. The power emanating from it was not something I’ve ever experienced before, not from a flower.” 

Triss smiled regardless of the tears welling in her eyes. There was magic buzzing from the dead rose, but there was no love. She picked it up gently, rolling the stem between her fingers. “It’s said that if one is to give this flower to someone they love, it will live forever.” 

Without thinking, she took a hold of the sage’s hand and placed the purple rose in it. He carefully judged the action and her wet cheeks. “Geralt gave it to me many years ago. Our love wasn’t real, nor did it last long as you can see.” 

It was silent for a time, her smaller hand still lingering in his, a dead flower between their skin.

“Perhaps it was never meant to be. Destiny is a wicked game we all play,” Avallac’h whispered, scrunching the purple petals in his fist until they fell to the ground like snow from the clouds, “But it is not a linear journey, there are paths we never knew we could take.” 

He took her chin between his fingers, not painfully, in fact quite the opposite. 

And for once Triss didn’t feel nervous. 

His pale eyes concentrated on her mouth, and she found hers focused on his. The kiss started off faint, barely touching were their lips, until his tongue licked at her lips. Wet and soft. She opened her mouth and a loud exhale came from her nose. Her eyes shut and she was lost in the kiss.

Tongues colliding and dancing, Triss leaned into him. Although lean, he was firm but not strongly built. The towel slipped between them and she was bare to him, her breasts being pushed into his chest. Avallac’h moaned an unexpected sound as soon as it occurred, pressing her closer, tongue and mouth trailing down her chin and jaw, to her neck and collar bones. 

And he said nudity didn’t bother him. 

She smiled at the way his palm lingered just above her breast, where the scarring from sodden hill lay. It wasn’t a shameful thing for her anymore, especially not under his gaze. 

His other hand tangled in her hair, carefully and not to hurt her scalp, he played with the chestnut strands, pulled them away from her face and chest. Again, his mouth latched onto hers, a moan vibrating onto her tongue. 

Their bodies turned, moving toward the room’s bed. Uncomfortable but it would do. 

Triss played with his smooth, sweetly smelling hair as he laid her down on the mattress, her breasts catching his gaze as they jiggled from the erratic change in position. 

She was no fool. She had large breasts, something she was both proud of and embarrassed by at times. But she felt just fine to have them by the way Avallac’h exhaled violently, entire body shivering. 

He stood there for a time, hands smoothing over her body, getting a sense of how she felt. “You are not like Aen Elle nor Aen Seidhe women.”

“You’ve slept with many? You don’t look like the type.” 

Avallac’h gave her a look that had her lips shut. His pale eyes had darkened or perhaps it was the lack of light. Elves had better eye sight than humans, so it wasn’t like he needed candle light. 

He squeezed her flesh like the dough of bread, breathing heavily as her hips and thighs obeyed his hands, “On your stomach… please.” 

If it had been any other situation, she would have laughed at the politeness, but she was so overcome with his gaze and lips that she couldn’t react, only oblige. 

Her hands latched onto the fur blankets as his hands explored her back, then her behind. Massaging her flesh until she was practically moaning along with him. 

Although Triss couldn’t see him, she knew he had undressed, his naked thighs colliding into her thighs as he traversed to in-between her legs. He hooked a hand under her stomach, just over her naval area and lifted her so that her breasts were sinking into the mattress and ass was slightly in the air.

His hand trailed alongside her ribcage and down to her hip, and he inclined his body into her, placing his weight on her back. She moaned at the feeling and followed suit. 

She could also feel his hardness near her softness. Pulsing and pained, longing for a lustful act. To feel warmth and slick. “You are beautiful Triss Merigold,” he whispered into her hair, finally pushing himself in. 

She gasped aloud and he held in a grunt-like noise. She felt in reverberate over her back and down her spine. His hands covered her own as he slowly slid in and out. She pulsed around him, clenching and unclenching. 

If he went any slower, she’d explode without trying. His pelvis rolled over her ass, and he lent a hand down to her wetness, rubbing over the most sensitive part of it. 

His weight held her down to the mattress, and she couldn’t do much but moan as loud as she could so that his aen elle ears could hear her good and clear. He responded with his own sounds and it became a pattern. His fingers playing with her and hardness sliding in and out to the beat of their song. 

At times he’d speak in his language, some words she could understand and some she’d never heard before. His unused hand caressed hers that latched onto the mattress, his thumb rubbing circles over her knuckles. 

She came undone beneath his motions and under his lithe fingers. His husky whispers intensifying her convulsions, the pleasure that erupted into her entirety, leaving her unable to make sound with her mouth. 

But he continued to thrust in and out, fastening the pace and pushing himself up off of her. 

She could almost see his eyes shut closed, sweat falling down from his usually unfazed features. A beauty so wise and untouched by humanistic desires like lust. 

Their flesh smacking together had her whining in delight, and soon he came undone inside her. Warm and sticky. He remained inside not long before both shifted under the sheets together. 

“I bet you never thought you’d sleep with a human sorceress,” Triss said breathlessly, fingers dancing lightly over his strong arm that had wrapped around her. His skin was sweaty but smooth, looked after, hairless. 

“No, I have not. But I am glad it was with you, one of the only warm-hearted sorceresses I've met.” He kissed behind her ear and delved his nose into her neck, bringing her closer.


End file.
